Defeating the Dark Lord
by rukushaka
Summary: An Eleven Part Chronicle. Set in the battlefield of the mind. No Slash.
1. Prelude

I don't own it.

This story is already fully written, so I will be publishing a chapter a week for eleven weeks.

Each chapter is substantially longer than the one before, except chapters 4 and 11, for some strange reason.

But anyway.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Defeating the Dark Lord: an 11 part chronicle.<strong>

**Prelude**

"_Harry!"_

At the frenzied shout, all conversation in the Great Hall ceased.

The reasons for this varied, but most common were the facts that:

a) Severus Snape was yelling at Harry Potter once again. The Slytherins smirked.

b) Said Potions Master had called the bane of his existence by his first name, for the first time in nearly seven years. Students everywhere looked at each other in confusion.

c) Snape had vaulted the Head Table and was now sprinting toward Harry, an expression of savage alarm on his face.

This last point was surprising, because normally the man had only one facial expression, and that was 'emotionless'. Unless, of course, Snape was looking at Harry, in which case his lip would curl and he would eye Harry as if he were the remnants of the Seventh Years' Leaving Party (read: drinking binge), plastered across the bathroom floor.

Also surprising was the method of transport. It was well known that Severus Snape _never_ ran. No teacher ever does something so crass as _running_; they merely _hasten_. Or, in the Potions Master's case, stride, robes billowing behind, lending an aura of mystery to the lean frame. Therefore, the sight of Snape sprinting, long legs eating up the ground between him and Potter, was a sight never seen at Hogwarts before. Colin Creevey was so busy staring in gobsmacked amazement that, alas, he forgot to snap a photograph for the annals of history.

Harry, on the other hand, did not look the least shocked to see Snape heading full-tilt his way: rather, the expression on his face was one of pale determination, backed with a shade of anxiety. Shaking off the hand on his wrist and Hermione's hiss of warning, he stood, and moved out to the middle of the aisle between the house tables. A twitch of his wrist, and the holly wand was lying in his hand, ready for action.

Harry stood his ground as the Professor came to a screeching halt in front of him.

"It's time, then?"

The question was asked in a perfectly calm voice.

Snape nodded, paused a moment to fully catch his breath, and confirmed, "It's time."

Harry twitched an eyebrow. "Best get on with it, I suppose."

He turned to face the rear wall, setting his back against Snape's chest.

Snape rested his hands on Harry's shoulders, paused a moment, grunted in dissatisfaction - "_You're almost too tall for that, these days,_" was murmured just loud enough for Harry to hear - the hands lifted for a moment in indecision, and then dropped back to his shoulders, squeezing gently.

Harry grinned and leant back into the solid warmth.

The eyes of both men closed in concentration: there was a whisper of magic, a shift of power, and the end wall shivered and coalesced to form a blank screen.

Both the student and his Professor were unnaturally still, a wordless spell shielding their bodies as their minds reached out elsewhere, consciously seeking...

On the screen, fog swirled, and the shadowy figures of two forms emerged.

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	2. Mistlands

**I don't own it.**

**A big shout-out to Cherrybomb, for being the first (and only, at this stage) person to review. Thanks!**

**My first story, Concerning Nightmares, is finally finished! Also, there's a small one-shot on my profile as well. Check them out =)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Defeating the Dark Lord: an 11 part chronicle.<strong>

** Mistlands**

"Did it work?" were the first words out of Harry's mouth.

Snape took a cautious step back on the foggy ground, eyes surveying the area. "I believe so." His nose twitched - once, twice - and then he nodded. "We're in your territory. Try adding another element."

Harry hesitated, and darted a glance behind them. "Severus? D'you think they can see us?"

Snape lifted a sardonic eyebrow. "If by 'they' you mean the entire rest of the school population, then I would say yes. It doesn't hurt to have someone keeping an eye on us." He rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just ignore it, Harry. What happens here is between you and I... and our guest, once he arrives. No doubt they're still shocked into silence at the sight of us exchanging civil words for the first time in living history."

Harry snorted. "That's what they _think_, anyway. Imagine what they'll say once they know we've kept this a secret for years now."

He grinned at Severus, but sobered quickly and turned his attention to the task at hand. Harry took a deep breath, _in...out...,_ concentrating fiercely on the one thing he wanted to see more than anything else in the whole world.

The mist swirled... and parted... and Lily Potter emerged.

There was a strangled gasp from Severus, and the hand on his shoulder tightened impossibly.

Snape looked like he was devouring Lily with his eyes, his face filled with a terrible aching agony.

The hand lifted from Harry's shoulder... Severus took a slow step forward... and another... and then his arms were around her, cradling her in the curve of his shoulder, running desperate hands through the shining hair, and he was trembling, shaking with anguish, and words came tumbling from his mouth, frantic with the force of his emotion, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry - "

He was gasping as sobs tore from his throat, tears running down his cheeks as he apologized over and over and over again.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry so sorry I'm so sorry - "

Lily rubbed slow circles on his back and murmured soft assurances, making hushing noises as he slowly calmed.

With one last _sorry_, Severus fell silent, tightening his embrace and resting his cheek against Lily's hair.

They stayed that way for some time, the dark ex-Death Eater clinging to his best - _only_ - friend amid the fog. Eventually his grip loosened; he eased back, eyes focused with painful intensity on her face.

Lily smiled, a slow, sad smile, as her hand crept up to cup his cheek. He made a noise that was half laugh and half sob, leaning into the curve of her hand.

"You have to let me go." The words were soft, but an order nonetheless. "Sev? I've forgiven you. You need to forgive yourself."

He caught his breath: eyes glistening with tears, he nodded. Bending down, he hesitated a moment before placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Harry thought his heart would burst when she moved to stand in front of him.

"Hi, Mum," he said softly.

"Hi, Harry;" her smile was tender, "long time no see."

He gave a watery laugh. "Sounds like something Sirius would say."

Almost unconsciously, he raised his hand, tracing the planes of her face with the pads of his fingers; hoping that when she was gone, his muscles would remember her touch, the feel of her skin.

"I'm so proud of you."

Harry smiled sadly. "You said that last time. When I was dueling Voldemort."

"Well, it's the truth."

He laughed and moved closer to embrace her, burying his head in her shoulder and clenching his eyes shut against the sudden well of tears.

After a moment, they separated. Harry dashed a hand across his eyes and sniffed.

"I miss you."

Lily pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I miss you too. But I must go, and I don't want to see you two again for a very long time, you hear me?"

Harry chuckled as Snape's arm draped naturally across his shoulders, and they replied in unison, "Yes, ma'am."

She turned and was gone, clear laughter like the ringing of bells hanging in air behind her.

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	3. The Dursleys

I don't own it.

Just to reiterate, this story is written. Completely. I have finished writing it. So there will be no rushed ending like Concerning Nightmares had.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong><em><span>Defeating the Dark Lord<span>_**

****** The Dursleys**

"Shall we press on?" Snape inquired.

Harry glanced at him, and looked pointedly at the fog surrounding them. "Sure. Where to?"

Snape swatted him across the back of his head. "Brat," his voice took on its typical lecturing tone, "Everywhere and everyone that has or had an impact on you is given form within your mind. That same mind just so happens to be where we are now."

"How do you know where we are?"

"Have you forgotten who taught you Occlumency? I'd wager a small fortune I know your mind better than you do."

Harry raised his eyebrow in a perfect mimic of Snape. "How much is a small fortune?"

Severus snorted. "I don't want your money, Potter. I can prove it right here and now, no incentive needed. For instance..."

Harry promptly shifted his gaze to stare over Snape's shoulder.

Severus chuckled. "Oh, I don't need eye contact to help, Harry, not when we're standing right in the coils of your subconscious. I wonder what would happen if I said... _cupboard?_"

Images formed in the mist. Stairs. A door. A miserable crawl-space beneath the stairs, featuring a camp-bed and a scrawny ten-year-old.

There was a peculiar glint in Snape's eyes. "_Parents._"

Being hugged by Mrs Weasley when he was fourteen, and it was his first memory of being hugged like this, as though by a parent. A flash of green light, and a terrible, terrified, pleading scream. Petunia, talking, "In the car crash when your parents died."

Snape's eyes were glittering strangely, and it took Harry a moment to recognise it as pure fury - and his voice was a snarl as he struck again. "_Dursley._"

Petunia, "I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak!"; Vernon, "I'm not having one in the house! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"; Marge, "Have you been beaten often?" "If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup - "; Vernon again, "You're going the same way as your useless parents - "; and back to Petunia, "I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - _abnormal_ - and then she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

There was a strained silence, broken only by harsh breathing - and then Severus spoke, in a deadly whisper, voice vibrating with anger, "I'll be right back," and he disappeared.

"No - Severus!"

But it was too late - he was gone.

_Dammit!_ Harry had seen the barely restrained fury in Snape's eyes, knew that he was most likely heading for Privet Drive - but how to get there?

_I need to get to Privet Drive, I need to get to Privet Drive, I need to get to Privet Drive - _

Focusing with everything he had, Harry stepped into a turn -

- the world dissolved in a nauseous whirl of colour and sound -

- and he emerged at the wrong end of Privet Drive.

Swearing under his breath, Harry broke into a run.

He sprinted down the road, blinking at the brightness of the world after being surrounding by dull fog; past Mrs Figg's, past old man McArthur's, past the high hedges of Number 6 and into Number 4, where he took the front steps two at a time and burst through the front door.

Muffled shouting came from the cupboard under the stairs - that would be Dudley; Vernon was lying on the floor in the living room, trussed up like a pig; and Petunia -

Petunia was shrinking back against the kitchen wall, eyes wide, as a very angry Severus Snape advanced upon her, wand pressed to the pulse point under her bony jaw. They were clearly in the middle of a conversation of sorts.

" - nothing to say, _Tuney?_" he was sneering.

Petunia darted a panicked look towards Harry before focusing once more on Severus. "I - I don't know what - "

"YOU - SHOULD - HAVE - LOVED - HIM!" The words were a roar. "You should have taken him in, out of the kindness of your shriveled heart, and loved him for himself! Or if you couldn't do that, loved him because he was Lily's child! Loved him as his mother did! As any blood relation would! LOOK - AT - HIM!"

Petunia turned her terrified gaze to Harry. Snape followed suit, glancing back over his shoulder, and Harry saw that his eyes were wild with fury, teeth bared in a snarl, before he looked back at Petunia. "How can you not love him? His Godfather spent twelve years in Azkaban, hadn't known him for five minutes and he loved him! Even _I_ love him, and I spent twenty years wishing death upon his father!"

Panting with emotion, shaking with fury, he holstered his wand and, in one smooth movement, raised his hand as if to strike her.

Petunia closed her eyes in anticipation of the blow.

Severus halted, hand upraised, shoulders shaking. His muscles were straining as if under great pressure, as if the only thing staying his hand was sheer willpower.

And then he spoke, in a low, anguished voice. "I am not my father. I am not Tobias Snape. I will not become him._ I will not strike a female, nor raise a hand against a child._"

His hand dropped; he swallowed convulsively and murmured, "You should have loved him, Petunia. Remember that."

And then he turned and brushed past Harry.

Halting on the street outside, Severus met Harry's eyes, his own filled with dull grief and horror and rage.

"Hogwarts."

He vanished.

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	4. Aftermath

**I don't own it.**

**A huge thanks to all of you who have reviewed nicely. I'm getting some flames over on P&S because of apparent bad story structure. Any opinions? **

**This chapter is short - it's almost more of an interlude than anything.**

**Enjoy, and thanks for reading!**

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><p><strong>Defeating the Dark Lord: an 11 part chronicle.<strong>

**Aftermath**

Harry stared at the empty road.

Then he went back inside, let Dudley out of the cupboard, untied Vernon, and sat Petunia down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea.

That done, he made his way outside, turned in another dizzying spiral of light and sound, and appeared in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Deciding it was probably best to give Severus some space, Harry made his way slowly down to the kitchens, where he pilfered an apple from the fruit bowl and wandered back up to the Entrance Hall, steadily munching.

From there he took the staircase to the dungeons, working his way further in and further down along the dark hallways until he came to the door they'd used a hundred times before.

He pressed his hand to the panel, and the door swung open.

Harry entered the small antechamber, sat at the high bench, and peered through the viewing window into the next room.

Severus was stripped down to his shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled to the elbows, damp hair combed back from a face glistening with sweat. He was battling three of the Mastery-level training dummies - no magic, no weapons - just simple unarmed combat. Watching the man fight was a lesson in itself - he moved like silk and steel, combining smooth speed with a raw power that was breathtaking.

Snape dispatched his second opponent with a quick wrench to the neck vertebrae, and ducked a high kick from the last dummy still standing. Shooting out a hand, he grasped the leg as it came down. There was a twist and a sharp _crack_, and the dummy collapsed to the floor with a dislocated knee joint.

Severus stood back, watching dispassionately as the dummy slowly regained its footing, bracing itself against the wall.

His lip curled in a snarl; one step, two; and he leapt, feet lashing out - the kick caught the dummy square in the chest, sending it stumbling back against the wall. As his feet hit the ground, his hand shot out, fingers curled, and the heel of his hand met the dummy's nose, breaking it and sending bone shards up into its brain, killing it instantly.

The dummy collapsed as Snape bent over, hands on his knees, panting. Between gasps, he spoke one word, "Clear."

The dummies vanished.

Snape straightened up; grabbing the towel hanging on the inside of the door, he walked through to the antechamber, and looked highly unsurprised to see Harry sitting at the bench.

He wiped his face with the towel and draped it around his neck before joining Harry at the bench.

"That feels better," he murmured.

"It looked like it did you some good."

"Handy for anger management."

"Mmm-hmmm," Harry made a hum of agreement.

"I am not my father."

"I know."

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	5. The Great Hall

**I don't own HP. **

**Earthquakes and University exams are not a good mix... good thing this story is pre-written =)**

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><p><em><strong>Defeating the Dark Lord: an 11 part chronicle.<strong>_

** The Great Hall**

One Drying and Odourising Charm later - _"Harry, it's hardly appropriate for me to change in front of the entire school..." _- and they were making their way to the Great Hall, in search of sustenance. By common consent, the Head Table was out of bounds, and since Severus refused to sit at the Gryffindor table, and Harry refused to sit at the Slytherin table, they ended up on opposite sides of the Hufflepuff table.

"After all," Snape murmured, "loyalty is important to both of us."

Anyone watching - as, indeed, the population of the school was - would have marveled at the intricacy of their movements. It was obvious that this was an everyday occurrence: it was like watching a well-choreographed dance. They ate in silence; any request was anticipated and fulfilled before it could be spoken. Severus knew that Harry would want the peanut butter, and nudged it to within easy reach; Harry knew Severus would want black coffee, and so he placed the jug down beside the _Tall, Dark, and Snarky_ mug he'd bought him for his birthday last year.

The only noise for a good twenty minutes was the scrape of cutlery and the sound of chewing. Replete, they sat back, Harry clasping a tall glass of pumpkin juice, Snape holding his refilled mug of coffee.

There was a contemplative silence, and then Harry announced, "Ravenclaw."

Snape arched an eyebrow, "Slytherin."

Harry grinned. "I was actually referring to which House you'd be in if you weren't in the House that you _are _in."

The eyebrow twitched, "So was I."

Harry paused. "Ah."

Snape nudged the fruit bowl his way. "Here. You need the vitamins."

"No need to mother me, Severus."

"I don't think I could mother you if I tried. I'd have to dye my hair auburn, for one thing."

Harry chuckled, "Well, stop fathering me, then."

The instant he'd said it, Harry wanted to take it back. There was a brief flash of - something - in Severus' dark eyes, but his face was blank, closed off, when he replied flatly, "Merlin forbid I be compared to James Potter."

"I'm sorry."

Snape just looked at him, with that unreadable expression.

"I - I didn't think."

"No, you didn't." a pause, "If you truly wish for me to - "

"No! Severus - you're not just some James Potter fill-in, alright? You're a - a mentor, and a friend, and a dozen other things - even before Remus and Sirius - and - I'm sorry. It was stupid, and I didn't mean it, and I'm sorry."

Snape seemed to relax somewhat, or at least his air of tension eased: he nodded slowly. "Apology accepted, brat, now eat your fruit."

Harry grinned in relief and bit into a peach.

Another pause, and then Snape spoke, "I've been wondering: what career would you consider pursuing once the Dark Lord is dead?"

At Harry's enquiring look, he added, eyes lit with dark humour once more, "I told you I knew your mind better than you do. You only want to be an Auror because fighting Dark Wizards is what you've always done, and it would give you the best chance of surviving another encounter with _him. _But there _are_ other career paths out there."

Harry frowned thoughtfully and sipped his pumpkin juice. "I quite like teaching, actually."

"Because of your club?"

"Partially. Although that was largely out of necessity - we needed to know how to fight, and somehow I was the one nominated to head it up."

Snape snorted. "Don't demean yourself, Harry. You're a natural leader. I think you'd be an excellent teacher."

Harry grinned, "Really?"

"Yes. You certainly have the experience, and the brats would positively worship the ground you tread on. What subject did you have in mind?"

"Ah. That's the thing." He eyed Severus for a moment, "Defence."

Severus laughed. "Dangerous ground, Potter."

"I'll fight you for it." Harry offered with a grin.

"That's actually not a bad idea. Succession via dead men's pointy shoes, or something to that effect. At least that would ensure a competent teacher."

"Not like Lockhart."

"Or Quirrell."

"Or Umbridge."

"Or Lupin."

"Hey!"

"I'm joking, Harry, I'm joking..." Snape chuckled, "the look on your face was priceless." He sobered, "But speaking of the Defence position, you can have it and welcome."

Harry was gobsmacked. "You mean - you don't want it?"

"Not personally, no. The Dark Lord wanted me to have it, so by all appearances I lusted after it and was fiercely jealous of any teacher that beat me to it. Albus knew my reasons, of course."

He paused, and then went on, "I would be quite happy handing over the lower years of Potions to another teacher, leaving me the N.E.W.T. classes and enough time for researching and maybe taking on an apprentice. I am, after all, a Potions Master; taking on an apprentice is the obligation of any Master."

Harry eyed him in awe. "Sounds like a good plan."

"I rather thought so. I aim to bribe Albus with my, ah - contributions to the school."

"Contributions - " Harry broke off with a laugh before deepening his voice, "Oh, Headmaster - seeing as Potter and myself just defeated the Dark Lord, we'd like a little favour. He wants the Defence position when he leaves school, and I'd like to drop most of my classes and play around with my potions experiments."

They shared a quiet chuckle.

"I can just imagine Hogwarts in thirty years' time." Snape murmured. "Albus will have retired, leaving the position of Headmaster to be filled - possibly by myself, as Minerva enjoys teaching far too much to be stuck in an office doing paperwork. She will still be Deputy Headmistress, of course; and I believe we shall need to reinstate the position of Assistant Headmaster, as a next-in-command to the Deputy. That will be you, at the sober age of forty seven."

The corner of his mouth curled. "Your friend Weasley would no doubt be overjoyed to be Quidditch coach, and I suppose we can find a spot for Miss Granger - Arithmancy, perhaps? Or Runes... Longbottom can have the Herbology post, as long as he discovers some self-confidence first; and as for the rest... well, we'll see when we get there."

Black eyes sparkling with humour, he smirked at Harry.

"No objections? Good."

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	6. Finding Tom Riddle

**I don't own it.  
>Please do review - it really does make my day =D <strong>

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><p><strong>Defeating the Dark Lord<strong>

**7) Finding Tom Riddle  
><strong>

They were making their way out of the Great Hall when Harry felt a crippling pain in his scar. His legs buckled under the force of the searing, red-hot agony; catching himself on his hands, he collapsed to the floor, curling into a fetal ball, hand pressed to his forehead. His spare hand formed a fist, and he bit down on the protruding thumb joint in an effort to not scream, but whimpers still emerged as the pain threatened to overwhelm him.

After an infinity, he smelt the familiar cinnamin-and-dittany scent of Severus, and his arms were gently prised apart.

"It's alright, Harry," the voice was soft, "just drink this. It's a Pain-Relieving Potion, one of your special ones... that's it... good."

Harry swallowed the potion and grimaced at the taste before rolling cautiously onto his back. Experience had taught him not to move much until five minutes after ingestion; it had a nasty habit of coming back up otherwise.

He met Snape's concerned eyes and smiled slightly, whispering a slightly hoarse "thanks."

"Not a problem. You're alright otherwise?"

Harry nodded, "You?"

"A brief flare of my Mark, alerting the Death Eaters that something important is happening; he won't know I've betrayed him yet."

Harry managed a vicious grin, "I'm just wanting to see his face when he finally realises. You've only been spying on him for, what, seventeen years?"

"Eighteen."

"Just goes to show how brilliant you are."

Snape looked at him sardonically, "Thank you, Mr Potter. I'll be sure to add that to my resumé."

Harry sat up slowly, and placed a hand on his arm, "I mean it, Severus. You really are brilliant. I don't - I don't know what I would've done without you."

The Potions Master scrutinised him for a long moment, and then nodded and murmured, "Nor I, you."

Harry grasped the proffered hand and hauled himself to his feet.

His scar gave a twinge; rubbing a hand across it, he said softly, "He's here."

"_Here_ here?"

"No. But I think I might know where."

"Then by all means, lead on."

They made their way to the second floor, where Harry opened the door to the girl's bathroom. Severus paused.

"Harry, I'm sure we just passed any number of serviceable lavatories on the way here, if you need to relieve yourself; and you _do_ realise that that is a girl's bathroom?"

Harry slipped inside, calling back over his shoulder, "We're going to the Chamber of Secrets, and this is the only way I know of getting there."

Snape sighed and followed.

A hissed _open_, a slippery slide, and they emerged in the dank bowels of the castle. Severus lost no time in casting a very thorough _scourgify_ on the both of them, as "We just had a rather long trip down the inside of a sewage pipe."

When he saw the shed basilisk skin, however, Harry could see his eyes light up.

"Do you know what this is worth? Oh, not just the money, but the research possibilities..." Severus was practically drooling, "Tell you what - I'll trade you. The Defence position for the basilisk skin."

Harry grinned. "You can have the whole basilisk if you want."

"A _whole basilisk - _" his eyes were wide, and alight with passion, "show me."

Harry nodded, biting back a grin at the all-my-birthdays-have-come-at-once expression on Snape's face.

As they approached the entrance doors, he lifted a hand to lips, motioning for quiet.

Severus nodded.

Another hissed _open_, and they slipped into the Chamber, stealthy as shadows. A scan of the area, and it became clear that Voldemort was not there. He led Snape over to the basilisk corpse.

Harry laughed aloud at the look on his face. "You're drooling."

Severus' lip twitched. "Nonsense. I'm far too dignified to _drool_."

"Sure." They exchanged a conspiratorial glance before Harry turned his attention back to the Chamber.

"Well, I was wrong - he's not here."

"So, the question is... where is he?"

Harry shrugged. "Could be any number of places. The graveyard from fourth year... the orphanage where he grew up... "

"Godric's Hollow..."

"The island where the locket was..."

"The Slytherin Common Room..."

Harry blinked. "Not a very roomy place for a showdown, is it?"

"H'm, perhaps not. But I think we're on the right track. Hogwarts was his home, much as it is ours."

"So... the Great Hall? the Headmaster's Office? No..." Harry caught his breath. "He applied for a job here, years ago - "

"Of course... Defence Against the Dark Arts - "

" - which means - "

" - he's in the Defence Classroom."

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	7. Taking down the Dark Lord

**I don't own it. Thanks for the wonderful alerts and favourites and reviews! They make my day =D**

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><p><strong><span>Defeating the Dark Lord<span>**

**7) Taking Down the Dark Lord**

"Harry, you can't - "

One hand on Severus' arm, Harry stepped into a turn.

" - apparate inside Hogwarts..." Snape finished weakly, once they'd appeared in the Great Hall.

Harry was already striding for the doors; he called back over his shoulder, "It's_ my _mind, Severus - I can do what I like."

Snape rolled his eyes as he lengthened his stride to catch up.

Harry caught the muttered, "typical Potter arrogance..." and bit back a grin.

Around the corner, down a corridor, and they arrived outside the Defence classroom. Green eyes met black for a timeless moment, communicating everything that would never be expressed aloud; a solemn nod, and they slipped into the room, instinctively separating to flank the doorway.

Voldemort was leaning casually against the teacher's desk.

"Harry, Ssseverus," he greeted them with a mocking smile.

"Hello, Tom," Harry replied.

Voldemort beckoned Snape forward with a lazy forefinger, "Come here, Ssseverus. I must reward you for bringing Harry Potter to me..."

Snape tensed, and slowly brought his eyes up to stare Voldemort in the face.

"No."

There was a long moment of silence: Voldemort straightened, red eyes narrowing in anger, and when he spoke at last, it was in a long, angry hiss, "Ssssseverussss... _come here._"

A muscle twitched in Snape's jaw. "No."

His left hand flexed, just slightly, and Harry knew that his Mark would be starting to burn, conveying Voldemort's displeasure.

Severus was staring directly into the Dark Lord's eyes, locked in a silent battle. As the moment stretched on, the tension thickened, neither man willing to back down...

And then Voldemort blinked, languidly, like a cat.

"Ah, Sseverus... you would betray me? _Me, Severus?_"

He laughed, a cold cruel sound that echoed in the empty classroom.

"You _cannot_." It was stated simply, as a fact; and then his voice lowered to a near hiss, "You belong to me, Severus... you are _mine._"

Snape inhaled sharply, a tremor wracking his body as the burning pain from his Mark intensified: but his eyes were burning too, blazing with anger and savage determination, and his voice was low when he replied, "I'm not yours. I haven't been yours for a long time... since before the Potters died."

His nostrils flared, breathing more deeply as the tremors spread throughout his body; he summoned his strength and snarled, "I'll die before I join you again."

An amused smile graced the Dark Lord's lips. "That can be arranged."

And time seemed to stop as Severus gasped, face white with pain: he doubled over, eyes impossibly wide, pupils dilated with shock. He cradled his arm near his body, breathing ragged as shudders wracked his lean frame, and he staggered and slumped sideways onto a desk.

Harry watched with mounting horror as Severus' left sleeve was torn free, revealing a Dark Mark that was blistered and seeping pus.

"You see, Severus? You took my Mark willingly, actively. And for every action, there is a... _reaction._"

Snape's eyes were glazed with pain, lashes fluttering weakly as Voldemort went on.

"It is a part of you... part of your very marrow... part of your _soul. _You cannot just leave the Death Eaters. You cannot leave _me._ It is a lifetime of service... or death."

On the verge of collapse, Snape didn't - or couldn't - reply. The Dark Lord took a threatening step to him -

"NO!"

- and Harry emerged from his horrified stupor, lunging forward to place his body between Severus and Voldemort.

Voldemort tilted his head to the side, watching Harry curiously. "You can't stop me, Harry."

Harry glared at the Dark Lord, "I won't let you hurt him, Riddle. Not anymore."

"What, not going to let someone die for you? It worked so well for you in the past... what is it now, four deaths? Why not make it five?"

Harry could hear Severus' harsh breathing at his back...

Voldemort was speaking again, "You have such an obsession with family, Harry; it's not healthy. Your parents are dead, so you turn to your godfather; he dies, so you turn to Severus here... Where does it end? What will it take to make you realise: you - are - alone?"

Behind him, Severus groaned and fell forward, resting his forehead against Harry's shoulder.

_Not alone._

And the physical contact sparked something deep inside him, a savage need to protect the man injured and dying behind him; his magic flared wildly, lashing out to pin Voldemort in place; and as the Dark Lord panicked and tried to disapparate, Harry laughed softly.

"Oh no, Tom. This is _my _mind, _my _rules. No-one can apparate within Hogwarts... except the Headmaster."

Harry let the moment build, his magic mounting within him, the slow burning rage intensifying; taking a leaf from Snape's book, he drew his lip back in snarl as he eyed the monster before him. Faces and voices and flashes of memory were echoing in his head as Harry reminded himself _why _he was doing this; but really, the most significant reason for it, at this very moment, was that Severus was in pain, and once the Dark Lord was dead, the pain would stop.

It was with this final thought in mind - not for wrath, not for revenge, but with the simple aim of saving a life - that he struck, letting loose a blast of raw magic, channelled and honed within the confines of his mind.

And Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., self-styled Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, died.

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	8. Complications

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**Hope you enjoy reading! =)**

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Defeating the Dark Lord<br>**  
>8) Complications<strong>

"Severus?"

The weight on Harry's shoulder lifted, just enough for him to turn and catch Severus under the arms as he slumped forward again. The dark lashes fluttered.

"He's - dead?" his voice was a pained rasp.

"He's dead." Harry confirmed, keeping his tone gentle.

Severus lifted his arm, gazing at the pale skin of his forearm, noting the absence of the Mark, the ugly outline of blistered flesh where it used to be. "Good..." His body was shaking; his eyes slid shut, breathing labored as he murmured, "Hurts... might be - you - saving me - this time..."

Harry stared at him, aghast. "What - no - Severus, you're not dying! You - you _can't_!"

Severus' lips turned up in a genuine, if weary, smile. "... Dark Lord - doesn't take _no - _for an answer..."

His hand lifted, slowly; the back of his fingers brushed Harry's cheek in a tender gesture, so very unlike the austere Potions Master.

"... proud of you..." the words were little more than a whisper.

"You're not dying." Harry was terrified, panicking, at the very thought. "You're _not_. I won't let you!"

On the verge of hysteria, he could feel tears filling his eyes.

"You can't die, Sev. You can't - I don't - I can't - You're not... you're not allowed to."

"...s'ry..."

"Severus..." Harry thought his heart would break. Suddenly filled with determination, he lifted Severus' eyelids with his thumbs, staring deep into the black eyes.

"This is _my _mind, remember? _My_ rules. I'm not just letting you die!"

And with that he plunged into Severus' mind.

Downward he dove, through aching darkness, and landed in the Slytherin Common Room.

_Where are you, Severus..._

He stepped into a turn, emerged in the Great Hall. No Severus.

Another turn. Potions Classroom. No Severus.

Apparation after apparation, faster and faster until it felt like he was standing still and the scenes were changing before his eyes like an old-fashioned photo viewer.

Snape's Quarters.

Headmaster's Office.

Ravenclaw Tower.

Astronomy Tower.

The Kitchens.

Hagrid's Hut.

Harry halted, gasping for breath, brain kicking into overdrive.

_Think! Think think think you idiot! What if he's not at Hogwarts? Where would he be? Where would he go?_

And with a blinding flash, Harry remembered the park, and the young red-headed girl flying off the swings...

He apparated to the memory of that place and looked around wildly.

No Severus.

_Dammit!_

_Hang on..._

There was a street sign nearby, pointing off down a seedy lane. Harry moved toward it until he was at the right angle to read it.

_Spinner's End_.

Grinning in relief, he took off running down the street, only realising half way down that every house looked similarly run-down, and he had no idea which was Severus'.

"Point me Severus Snape!"

His wand spun in his hand, settling to point to a house on his left a bit further down.

Harry strode down the cobblestone street and through the gate, pausing only for a cursory knock before opening the door and entering.

He found a teenage Severus in the smallest bedroom, lying back on the bed, idly twirling his wand. Snape barely glanced at Harry before speaking.

"I thought I told you not to come here."

He drew his feet up, giving Harry enough room to sit on the end of the bed and lean back against the wall. "It's incredibly dangerous. We could end up trapped here - stuck inside my mind, inside your mind. In fact, I very specifically remember telling you, if I am hurt, don't play the hero and risk your life on the slim chance of rescuing me."

Harry grinned, feeling an odd sense of kinship to this dark-haired boy with all the memories of his older self. "I'm not. Risking my life, I mean. I know what I'm doing, Severus."

The teen arched an eyebrow. "You do? I guess miracles really do exist after all."

Harry rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Sev. We're going back. Back home - Hogwarts."

"You are. I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Am not."

"Severus - "

"Look, Harry - I don't want to, okay? I'm - I'm fine here."

Harry snorted. "Fine, maybe, but _happy?_ I don't think so. You can't just give up!"

Severus gazed at him soberly - it was a strangely world-weary look for the teen's face. "I spent the last eighteen years playing both sides in a very dangerous war. I'm _tired_, Harry. I'm - drained, and - and angry, and bitter, and cynical, and I'm not so sure that the mask I've put up isn't who I really am. What is there for me? Out there?"

"You can start anew: take a holiday, find out who you really are behind the facade. And you're going to be Headmaster, remember? You'll give up your lower level classes, and take on an apprentice, someone who loves Potions almost as much as you do, and I'll steal the Defence job out from under you, and we'll _teach_, Severus."

Harry laid a hand on Snape's knee. "We've both been through war: these kids haven't. They need to know what's out there, they need to know how to survive, how to fight. We can teach them that. They won't just fear you, Severus: they'll _respect_ you."

Severus hesitated. "I don't know..."

"Please, Severus. For me?" Harry widened his eyes, puppy-dog style. "I'll even make sure you get on a Chocolate Frog card."

Snape chuckled. "Merlin forbid. Oh, very well, brat, I'll come back. But only because you asked so nicely."

Harry jumped up and held out a hand, heaving Severus off the bed. "Come on, then. Need I remind you you're dying? The sooner we get back, the sooner you can find help."

They strode for the door, two lanky raven-haired teenagers, and made it halfway down the street before the first spell came flying toward them. Harry felt a hand on his arm, jerking him to the side: teenage Snape was gone, and in his place was adult Severus. They broke into a run, dodging a barrage of spells, Snape's hand on his shoulder guiding him firmly.

"Now this is more like it!" Severus laughed aloud as they sidestepped a hex, and said between breaths, "They don't want us getting away..."

His face was alight with the thrill of the chase, eyes gleaming, adrenaline pumping through his veins; and as they ran he dropped his hand to pull his wand and fire back over his shoulder.

"Harry - listen - we need to lose them before we go back. Split up - use Mid-Step Apparation - no less than 10 different stops. Keep away from Hogwarts, it's too predictable - I'll meet you at Privet Drive. If I'm not back in ten minutes - " he hesitated, and then finished, " - you have my permission to come find me."

Harry nodded, signifying agreement and acceptance with a terse "Yes, sir,", and they sped up to a flat-out sprint.

Harry concentrated until his vision tunneled, the only sound his heartbeat; and between lifting his right foot and putting it down he apparated from Spinner's End to Ottery St Catchpole, maintaining his momentum. One step, two, three, and on the fourth he apparated again, this time to a part of London by Grimmauld Place. Amid the warnings and statistics about Mid-Step Apparation - only three people in the last thousand years had survived learning it - Severus had told him that it was somewhat akin to dancing - _one-and-two-and-three-and-change - _and in a situation like this, heart pounding in his ears like the beat of a drum, he could see the analogy clearly.

London to Cornwall to the wilds of Scotland to the coast of Ireland, down the coast in a series of three shorter trips, over to Cardiff and across to Brighton, down to Portsmouth, Bournemouth, up to Bristol, and finally to Privet Drive.

Severus appeared a scant minute later, barely breathing hard.

"Alright?"

Harry nodded, "No trouble."

Severus stepped closer and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Good. Hogwarts."

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	9. Saving Severus Part I

**I don't own it.**

_**Thanks for the reviews - much appreciated, as always.**_

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><p><em><strong>Defeating the Dark Lord: an 11 part chronicle.<strong>_

**9) Saving Severus Part I**

As soon as they arrived, Snape's hand dropped from Harry's shoulder, and he strode off toward his private laboratory. Harry trailed behind him uncertainly.

"Severus?"

"H'm?" Snape waved him forward. "Come through, Harry, I'll need your help with this."

"Er... What exactly is 'this'?" Harry watched as Snape strode to the most heavily warded cabinet, dismantled the wards, and opened it. He added, "You're not doing anything - rash - are you?"

Severus plucked three potions from the recesses of the cupboard. "Necessary, painful, and potentially embarrassing, yes, but rash? no. I'm getting rid of the remnants of magic from the Dark Mark before it kills me."

Harry blinked. "Can you do that? I mean - " he floundered as Severus looked at him impatiently, "obviously you just said you could - but - how?"

Severus eyed him for a moment before straightening up and slipping into full Professorial mode.

"Name the three most significant things the Dark Lord makes his Death Eaters experience, Mr Potter."

The first one was easy. "Pain."

Severus selected a dark grey-green potion and set it on the workbench. "Correct. This is a rather more mild form of the Cruciatus. Continue."

"Command? Control? Well, _he_ controls _them_, so they'd experience - submission?"

"Obedience." Snape nodded, adding an orange potion to the bench. "That one makes the drinker yield to any whim of select persons."

The last potion he held was a deep crimson. "Based on the colour, I'd say..." Harry reddened slightly, "lust?"

"Near enough. Pleasure, whether physical or otherwise. This particular potion stimulates the senses, which generally classes it as an aphrodisiac."

He placed it on the table.

"And now I drink them, one by one, to simulate the effect of the Dark Lord, and focus on expelling all traces of magic from the area around the Mark."

"So - you'll feel pain, and - and pleasure, and obedience?"

"Not necessarily in that order, but yes. Actually - " Severus turned his head and raised his voice slightly, "Headmaster, might I suggest you impose an age line? They might benefit from the visual experience, but perhaps only those of-age should have access to sound... This is liable to get messy."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So what do you need me to do?"

"I need you to keep me on track. It's highly likely that I shall become distracted from my task - you'll need to persuade me to continue."

Harry shuddered, and, at Snape's concerned look, explained, "It's fine - it just - just reminded me of the cave, and the lake, and having to watch Dumbledore drink that _stuff_..."

Severus shook his head slightly. "It won't get quite _that _bad. Well - " a slight glance toward the Pain Potion, " - not yet, anyway."

Harry nodded.

"Shall we get started, then? Which potion would you like to start with?"

"Obedience? It'll be the easiest..."

Severus nodded and, in one swift movement, uncorked the orange potion and downed it. A shudder ran through his body.

"Severus? You alright?"

Snape nodded. "Yes. You'll need to order me directly for it to have full effect."

"Okay - um - I need you to - how'd you put it - expel the traces of the Mark from your arm."

Severus gazed intently at his arm, eyes half-shut in concentration; his magic flared, filling the room with a sort of buzzing tingle. His mouth opened, and a low, musical croon emerged. At last he placed his right hand over the space where the Mark used to be - and to Harry it looked like he curled his fingers down and _through_ the skin, deep into the arm, and _wrenched_ - and the hand emerged holding a ball of orange light, which dissipated as soon as Severus opened his fingers.

"That's that done. The potion will take a minute or two to wear off; which shall we do next? Pleasure or pain?" There was a wry twist to his lip.

Harry swallowed nervously, "Pleasure, I think. Save the worst for last."

Snape nodded, drawing a stool out from under the bench and sitting. Harry copied the movement, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Severus drew the potion toward him, but hesitated before uncorking it. He eyed Harry soberly. "This potion and the next will be rather more... uninhibiting. You might need to... distract me, from anything - unwelcome..."

"Unwelcome?"

"It's an aphrodisiac, Potter, do you _really_ have to ask?"

"Oh." Harry blushed.

Severus regarded him impatiently. "I may be a selfish, soul-less ex-Death Eater, but I'm only human. I will, of course, try to control my - impulses, but I cannot promise anything."

Harry forced back his embarrassment enough to notice that Severus, too, was looking uncomfortable. He swallowed his pride and nodded. "'course. It's - it's alright. I mean - it's worse for you, really."

"Indeed it is." He added, under his breath, "My reputation will be shot to pieces..."

And then he uncorked the deep red potion and quaffed it. Harry could see the potion take effect: Severus' eyes focused intently on him, a strange, dark look in them. He slid a hand across the table to lift one of Harry's hands, and stroked a finger across the palm.

"Harry..." his voice was low, silky, "Your hands are so soft."

Harry shivered, "Severus - "

"Oh, yessss..." Snape's eyes slid shut, "sounds so good... keep talking..."

"Severus!"

The raised voice was enough to jolt him back to some semblance of normality: his eyes opened, slightly less glazed than before.

"You need to focus, remember? Get rid of the traces left in your arm." He drew his hand away from Snape's, and at the bereft look on his face, added, "Your magic will feel good too, I promise. Just... tap into it, and focus on your arm."

Snape looked rebellious, but did as he was told, and as his magic flared once more, the pout on his face was replaced by a look of rapture, and a murmur of, "Oh, that's good - exhilarating - intoxicating..."

And as before, the steady croon left his lips, and the hand seemed to plunge into his arm, and withdrew holding a ball of red flame. Severus studied it for a moment, the scholar in him winning out over the effects of the potion, and then he opened his fingers and the fire faded.

As Harry opened his mouth to speak, Severus held up a hand. "Just - give it a minute, Harry. Please." His gaze was carefully directed at the floor on the other side of the room.

When it became clear that whatever thoughts Snape was having would take longer than a minute to think, Harry slipped quietly through into the main room and ordered pumpkin juice and coffee from the kitchens. The man hadn't moved an eyelash when he returned with a tray. Harry slid the steaming mug of coffee across the table: Snape took it with a murmured "thank you", and they sat in contemplative silence for a full five minutes - Snape staring at the floor with that thoughtful frown between his brows, and Harry with his elbows propped on the table, sipping his juice and occasionally scrubbing a weary hand over his face.

Snape straightened up with a sigh. "Alright - say something."

"Are you okay?"

Severus mulled the question over for a long moment before answering. "I'm not intoxicated with the sound of your voice, I have no sudden desire to feel the softness of your skin, nor craving to stare deeply into your eyes... I do believe the potion has run its course."

"That's good... but it still doesn't answer my question."

Snape blinked. "I am well, Harry, thank you. The effects were not as - strenuous - as I had feared they would be." He drank a mouthful of coffee before continuing, "This last potion, however, will be worse - much worse - for the both of us."

There was an odd, shadowed look in his eyes, as if reliving a painful memory... and then he shook his head slightly, and asked, in a seemingly unrelated topic "Have you ever imagined me screaming?"

Harry frowned. "No. I would've though it was physically impossible."

Severus smiled grimly, "Oh, it's possible. Not easy, mind you - in fact it's incredibly difficult; but certainly possible. I only mention it because in about - oh, ten, maybe fifteen minutes - "

He fixed Harry with a sober gaze, and said softly, "you won't have to imagine it."

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	10. Saving Severus Part II

**I don't own it.**

**Warning, this chapter's a li'l graphic.**

**Only one chapter to go after this.**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Defeating the Dark Lord<span>**

**10) Saving Severus Part II**

Harry's eyes widened, a thrill of horror shooting through him at the implication. "No."

"I'm afraid so."

"No - Severus... There - there has to be another way - "

"I never said it would be _easy_, Harry."

"This isn't a matter of _difficulty_, it's a matter of you being in so much pain that you literally _scream! _And if it was easy, why wouldn't everyone just get rid of it, eh? I _know_ it's not _easy!_ There has to be something else!"

"There isn't."

"But - you said pain, right? All you need is pain, and then you can do your focusing thing, and pull it out. So just pick another potion - one that'll give you a nosebleed, or stomach cramps, or - or make you vomit, or something - "

Severus shook his head. "They're very specific potions; very volatile, and they use very rare and expensive ingredients. Only a Master would have the knowledge to even understand the theory behind brewing them, and only a particularly brilliant Master would actually have the skill to complete them without blowing their lab up. And as I'm the only Potions Master who is also a Death Eater - " he gestured with one hand in a sort of shrug.

Harry exhaled in one long breath.

"I said earlier that it was a more mild form of the Cruciatus... that isn't strictly accurate."

Snape paused, and as Harry focused on him with weary eyes, he continued, "It starts slowly, at a very low level of pain, and then gradually builds higher and higher, finally plateauing at an exceptionally high level. It holds that level for some time... and then it vanishes, leaving no trace in the system and no after-effects at all."

Harry stared at him in horror. "And you know this _how?_"

"Let's just say it's a very effective interrogation technique."

His gaze turned inward, and he murmured softly, "My pain threshold might be high, but it is not _that_ high."

"That's - " Harry shook his head in disbelief, fumbling for the right word, "_barbaric_."

Severus snorted. "Welcome to the Middle Ages." He drained his coffee. "Still with me?"

Harry nodded. "To the end."

"Very well." He stood and approached the end wall. A flick of his wand, and manacles appeared, embedded into the stone. "Hold this for me, will you?" He tossed his wand toward Harry , who caught it by reflex.

Severus then placed his back to the wall, and with a softly spoken word, the manacles were clamped around his wrists and ankles. He wrapped his hands around the chains and pulled, making sure that they were sound.

Harry stowed Snape's wand in his back pocket, keeping his own in his right hand, and picked up the potion with his left.

"I'll need a cushioning charm. Behind my head and down to the knees should do it."

Harry complied, watching as Severus knocked his head back toward the wall and was met by a wall of air, creating a similar effect to a soft mattress.

"That's fine. Thank you. Harry - " Snape's voice was low and urgent, "I must warn you - I'm likely to have flashbacks. The amount of stress my body will be under - I won't be able to control how my mind reacts. But whatever I say, whatever I do - keep me on task for as long as you can, and if it gets to be too much..." he grimaced, "you can't interrupt me. Don't touch me, don't try and ease the pain, under _no_ circumstances are you to free me - turn your back if you must, but leave me be until it's over. Until it's _all_ over. Understood?"

His voice held all the solemnity of a pre-battle rouse; Harry nodded unhappily, and confirmed, "Understood."

"Good. Now give me the potion."

That task was soon dispensed with: Severus grimaced at the taste.

"Tastes bad?"

"Tastes _worse_, knowing exactly what went into it."

"I suppose it would. Shouldn't you be trying to get rid of the traces now?"

Snape shrugged as much as he was able, with hands and feet shackled. "There's no rush. It works best if I'm fully under the influence of the potion. It's just a question of finishing while I can still concentrate, before the effects of the potion escalate too much."

"Ah." Harry paced the length of the room, back and forth, back and forth, and then asked, "Has it started yet?"

"Oh yes," came the calm reply, "it started as soon as I drank the potion. Currently, the pain is maybe a level 3 out of 10 - " but even as Severus spoke, his body shuddered, and he amended in a half-gasp, "make that a 4."

Harry paced anxiously, up and down, up and down, as the shuddering increased, and Severus' breathing deepened, and the sweat stood out on his brow. At the first groan, Harry spun to face him, half sick with nerves and worry - Severus was pale, eyes shut tight, lip drawn back in a silent grimace as his magic flared and he - finally - began to attack the remnants in his arm. Harry watched in silent torment, determined not to distract him, but finding it hard - so hard, so hard - to not step in and help.

Time slowed to a crawl as Severus worked, caught up in his pain. The silence was punctuated with murmurs and half-pleas, now: claims of ignorance and innocence, appeals to an unknown someone to _save them, save her, please;_ long drawn-out groans of agony and anger, softer moans of grief; and, once, a fierce denial that rose to a shout:

"No... please, I don't... I don't - I... I'm telling you, I don't know where they are! The old man's their Secret Keeper, not I! Please..."

And his voice fell back to the fretful mutterings of before.

Harry paced.

Back.

And forth.

And back.

And forth.

And back.

And forth -

There was a great, shuddering gasp - Severus' eyes were open, unseeing, glazed with pain, mouth gaping in a silent scream as his body arched away from the wall. And then his head twisted around, tortuously, painfully, and he tore at his forearm with his bare teeth, a horrible keening wail emerging from his throat. With each bite and scrape of his teeth, a tiny sliver of grey-green light came away too, mixed in with the blood. And then Harry realised that he was tearing chunks of flesh off his arm, spitting them onto the floor in a desperate effort to rid himself of the Mark, and that the light was coming away in greater amounts too, dissipating as soon as Severus tore it from the arm.

And finally there was no light left to dispel - just Severus, hanging shaking and incoherent on the wall, forearm reduced to a bloody pulp, that same blood smeared across his lips and teeth and tongue.

And then his whole body gave a single, massive convulsion - and the trickle of blood flowing from his mouth increased, and Harry knew he'd bitten clean through his tongue - and then he screamed.

It was a terrible sound of pure physical agony, sheer animalistic pain, as the body was overloaded and couldn't cope and finally had to release the pain through any outlet it could find. His body was convulsing, thrashing wildly against the wall and the chains as it fought for release from this endless agony, eyes wild with pain, blood dripping from his mouth to stain the cold stone floor.

Harry stared, body shaking in horror, tears running freely down his cheeks as Severus screamed and screamed and _screamed_ - and then he whirled, still shaking, and curled into a protective ball in the corner, hands crammed over his ears to try and block out the excruciating sound, and he wept, staring into darkness, listening to the sound of Severus in torment, and he knew that nothing - _nothing_ - could wipe away the memory of this day.

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	11. In Which Our Story Is Concluded

_**I still don't own it.**_

**Ladies and Gentlemen, the final chapter, right here, for your viewing and reviewing pleasure!**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Defeating the Dark Lord<span>  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>11) In Which Our Story Is Concluded<br>**

* * *

><p>Harry didn't know how long he lay there, overwhelmed by the sheer horror of the situation. It was absurd beyond belief that Severus hung chained to a wall, screaming in agony, mere feet away - yet there he was, and Harry could do nothing to help him. The futility of it froze him to the core - he had the ability, the knowledge, the willingness to help - but by Severus' command and his own sworn obedience, he could do nothing - <em>nothing<em> - until it was all over.

_Stop it - stop it - stop it - _the mantra pounded in his brain, over and over, around and around - but he could do nothing.

And so he lay there on the cold stone floor, shaking with horror, weeping in helpless rage, as the screams went on and on and on.

It felt like an eternity later that Harry dimly realised the screams had stopped. There was a quiet word, and the sound of manacles falling free: a hesitant footstep.

"Harry?"

The tone was soft, hoarse, barely more than a strained whisper.

Slowly, Harry uncurled his body, climbed to his feet, and then - finally - turned around.

Severus' face was so pale it was almost white, tear tracks plainly visible down his cheeks, blood trickling from his mouth; he held himself as though pained - _of course he's pained, you idiot - _and the ravaged forearm was a mass of blood and torn flesh; there seemed to be more lines around his eyes and mouth, lines of stress and strain.

Harry stared at him, drinking in the sight of Severus, scanning every inch for injuries - and then his breathing hitched, and he flung himself forward to embrace him, reveling in the feel of the warm and so very _alive_ body, aware of an arm coming around to clutch at his back.

They stayed that way for some time - two men clinging to each other in the aftermath of a brutal battle - and then Harry eased back and took charge.

"You should go lie down on the couch."

Severus' lip twitched at the order, but he nodded wearily and limped through into the next room.

Harry grabbed the emergency potions kit and followed, to see Severus lower himself to lie full length on the couch, wounded arm dangling off the edge, eyes closed in clear exhaustion.

Harry damped a cloth and wiped the blood from his mouth and chin, before selecting the first potion.

"Here."

Severus reached across with his undamaged arm and took the uncorked potion without opening his eyes, passing it under his nose to identify it - Pain Reliever - and downed it. He handed the empty vial back and took the next without comment.

Muscle Relaxant.

Blood Replenisher.

A moderate strength Internal Healing Potion.

And then Harry raised the injured arm and cleaned it off, gently - first with water, then wound-cleaning solution, and then Murtlap Essence - and lastly applied a Nerve Growth Salve and Muscle Regenerative, and bandaged it tightly.

Severus lifted his hand and ran his fingers through Harry's hair, before letting it flop back heavily. "Thank you."

Harry held out a Energy Potion - it was bright blue and fizzing. "Last one, and then we can go back."

"Back?" Severus cracked his eyes open and frowned slightly, "We're already at Hogwarts. In my quarters, if I'm not mistaken."

"We're at Hogwarts, yes. We're also still in your mind. And mine. We're... in your mind, in my mind."

Severus' brow cleared. "Oh, yes. That's right, so we are."

He held out a hand for the Energy Potion and chugged it down. The tension lines around his eyes and mouth eased; he sat up, eyes bright and clear, looking much more alive.

"Much better. Come here."

Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and a moment later they were lifting up and out, and landed in the Defence Classroom.

They gazed down at the body of the Dark Lord.

"Goodbye and good riddance." Severus said eventually.

Harry just nodded agreement and led the way back to the Great Hall.

"I thought we could have a drink before we head back."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Coffee." Harry clarified, and bypassed the House tables in favour of the Head Table. He motioned Severus to the Headmaster's seat, and took the chair to his left.

Severus drank his coffee black; Harry, with copious amounts of cream.

"How does it feel?" Harry waved a hand, encompassing the Headmaster's seat and the vast Hall before them in his gesture.

Severus nodded thoughtfully. "I could get used to it."

Harry grinned and finished his drink.

They stood and moved out into the middle of the Hall. Harry stood in front of Severus, matching his breathing automatically to the warm chest behind him. Severus' hands fell gently onto his shoulders and squeezed.

And then they were rising up and out, back to their bodies in the crowded Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And the celebrations began.


End file.
